To catch a caged Bird
by Vegetaswriter
Summary: Can one be free while living in chains? Can you truly own a bird while it chirps in a cage? Freedom and slavery are opposites, and yet, they are the same...
1. Chapter 1

**Author notes: **Okay I've been working on this for a very long time actually, just had been doing little here, little there, only coming back to it when I wanted to. Started this in the beginning of April, posted a few paragraphs on tumbler a few weeks ago. But I finally finished where I think this chapter should end and now posting it. Not really sure where I am going to be taking this, or what pairing it's going to be! But rest assured, it will be very homoerotic in later chapters. For now, well… let's just say it's going to be typical for me. So, warnings - everything but the kitchen sink, okay well, I won't be doing anything extreme.

I do not own DBZ, nor do I make any money from this.

**Chapter 1**

A thick leather strap wraps around a boy's long elegant neck, the click of the crudely made lock seals his fate. The young boy's throat constricts as he whines, choking against the heavy meaning placed upon such a small simple object.

"Do not fret young one, we are men of the golden cloth." The elder's lips pressed gently upon his temple, comforting in his old wise ways. "Our God Marronia will deliver us." His whispers lulled the young boy in a momentary comfort. His fine aged whiskers tickled the boy's cheek; strangely, the whiskers were soothing to the boy.

The Barbaric men clothed in heavy bear skins and boiled leathers herded them into place, the young pretty women of child bearing ages ushered to the back into a darken room. The boy knew what was going to transpire and he pitied the maidens, silently he prayed. He knew of those things, those adult things, for he had over heard the bluster of soldiers in his father's great hall, spinning tales of the great conquests of women, and the variety of their plump cunts. He shudders at the memory, his eyes once again thieving glances to the now closed wooden door, his heart heavy with grief.

The chain rattles as a beast of a man towers over his small group, their once golden cloaks sullied by mud stiff under their shins making the cloth difficult to move. The beastly barbarian hollers in his countrymen crude rough tongue, sounding callous and intolerant in its bellows, they shuffle. The chain rattles noisily as they walk. The youngest of their group struggles from the weight, sluggish, clumsily moving along. The beast hollers more, bearing over the young struggling one, and he could see the rot of the beast's teeth, the rank of decay. His belly turns at its putrid scent, making his steps falter turning the attention of the beastly man upon himself.

The beast growl, hooking a sausage fleshy finger under his leather collar, hauls him closer, brushing sickening lips and vile breath over his ear, unknown words spoken to him. The works mysterious to him, however, the message clear, wickedness.

The day descends into a cold night; the bitter winds howled causing the boat to sway. Ice formed above his head, where once was a steady drip of sea water. He looked over his brothers of the golden cloth, all tightly huddled trying for warmth. These barbarians were mad, the winter solstice is a Holy and bitterly cold time of the year, and yet, these mad dogs born from an evil bitch rode the sea in winter. _What are these men?_ He thought.

The sound of grieving and prayers from the elders caught his attention, looking on as they wrapped the youngest boy's head with sullied pieces of robe ripped from their cloth. The child was too young to survive such cold, he gave up too easily all by closing his eyes and letting the cold sleep take him.

He yawns.

"Don't sleep, young brother. Death will take you." An older brother by a few years whispers through chattering teeth, nuzzling his light honeyed locks closer into his shoulder. He could feel his violent shivering, while he sat numb, unfeeling. He could only return the gesture, nuzzling his brother closer.

_Bright yellow fields of wheat swayed under the bright afternoon sun the heat welcoming and light upon his bronzed skin. He leaned out further, overlooking the balcony to watch the servants and guards bustle around the palace grounds. His chest bore the weight on the banister as he tip forward and back, his toes scraping the stone below. His two older brothers raced along in his line of sight, darting closer making him lean a little further out. _

_He felt the lurching of vertigo, his body moving over the banister, his lungs expanded with a fright of air. Then his downward fall halted abruptly, hanging over the banister. _

"_Crazy boy!" A man shouted. Hauling the frighten boy up by his left ankle and placing him upon his two feet. "Now keep your feet planted."_

"_Father!" He beamed, relieved and thrilled by seeing his large father. The man was built like a stone house, towering over him; appearing larger than life. _

"_What ever caught your attention enough to almost make you end your life, boy?" His father's silvery grey eyes twinkled, _

"_I saw Potat and Mixgree running inside with something. I wanted to see what it was, father." He replied, taking his father's hand as he walked away from the balcony towards the bed. _

"_Ah yes, perhaps some wormy bug they found in the gardens." His father chuckled. _

_He twisted his lips in disgust, making his father laugh harder and his hefty hand ruffles his hair. "I don't like them much either." _

"_Do you need to talk to me about something?" Not that he didn't enjoy visits from his father, he just knew, there was always a purpose for a King's visit. _

_His father smiled down to him, placing a burdened hand upon his shoulder. "Yes. I need you to hear and understand things from me before it is laid upon your feet tonight." His hand lowered and moved, bringing the boy in a one armed hug, keeping his youngest son close. "You know your older brother Mixgree will be King one day, and Potat his Royal advisor. Then it is your little sister Peppa will be married to a rich lord or Prince from a different land." _

"_Yes father, I know." He moved in closer, digging his cheek further into his father's side. "And I understand I am a, Bastard. I do not belong in the Royal court." _

"_No, that isn't so." His father exclaim. "Yes, you were born from wedlock and your mother died in during the birthing. You are still MY son." His father held his chin between his forefinger and thumb, he smiled. "You are my very image, boy." He rubbed his chin. "As you know, the Queen isn't very… approving of you. And if I were to die, she'll send you far away with naught a thing but the name I have given you, Vegeta. So, my boy, I have planned to secure your future within this country and palace." Silence filled the room as the King's calloused hand rub the scrawny arm of boyish youth, holding his son tighter against his side. He could hear the quicken beats of his son's heart waiting for the conclusion. "You're leaving to join the Priesthood of Marronia. They have agreed to groom you for high priest, second to rule over the country. The Queen does not know the details, only that you are being sent to the Brotherhood of the golden cloth. She will not know how far you will climb in rank with them." His father smiled, placing a kiss on his son's forehead. _

_Vegeta huddled closer, wrapping his smaller arms tightly around his father's hips…_

The voyage was grueling, the cold winter nights had taken many lives of young and old men alike, once a number of eighty-one men of the golden cloth were stuffed into the room under the ships haul, now only twenty-eight remain. The door opens as the beastly man whom herded them into this place stomps his way in, followed by a man he hadn't seen before, both grasping thick menacing whips, Vegeta nudges the older boy curled behind him with the honeyed hair… adjust the amount of survivors to twenty-seven.

The new Barbarian man of long gangly black soot covered hair towered over him, kicking the feet of the boy behind him. Shouted to the beastly man, they shared a chuckle. The black haired man looked down to him again, kicking him away from the dead boy rattling his chained feet.

Vegeta remains silent, his eyes ever watchful as they manhandled his once brother and warmth sharer. He knew he should feel something, sadness, fear, yet he had still felt numb, as if he couldn't truly comprehend what was happening. The man of black hair stripped away the robes of the honeyed haired boy, taking anything of value. He grasps the cold body's ankle and dragged the body of his brother akin to a sac of manure, showing no cares for his fellow man. It made him think. _How do they see us?_

The beastly man barks orders, which sounded very familiar, and Vegeta's mind curls around the words, repeating them over and over, sounding them out, breaking down the syllables. _Walk, or move, maybe even march,_ he guessed; giving the words substance.

Vegeta moves forward, allowing them to herd him similar to dogs herding sheep. His feet shuffle, his body weary from hunger and the cold deeply rooted into his joints, the jarring tightening and loosening of the chain stumbles him, not daring to look back at what he already knew. The sharp crisp snap of a whip accompanied by the agonized wails of he fellow brothers was all he needed to understand what the tightening of the chain meant. The old and the too young too weak to walk slowed, or fell, the chain loosen as they found some semblance of strength to walk. Or perhaps, it was the whip that motivated their fatigued bodies; possibly, it could be how these Barbarians treated their dead. What ever the reason, it motivated them to move.

They were marched one-by-one up the stairs, the bitter cold winds biting at their bare feet, huddling their grubby robes tighter against their flesh, trying to obtain some seclusion from the cold; it done nothing.

Vegeta felt the sharp cold air cut his lungs; however, being stuck in a haul surrounded by filth and the rank of bodily fluids, he could not deny the welcomed freshness of the winter's air spiced with pine.

He looks around the vast area, only a few huts, smoke funneling from the roofs and the sent of cooked meat makes his stomach knots violently reminding him of his hunger. His mouth waters as he breathes it in, he could almost taste the meat.

He didn't have much time to sink in the momentary freedom from the ship's haul before he was once again moving off the ship. He kept his head down, not bringing any attention to his person, an art he had perfected in his father's Royal Court, always hiding within plain view. His vision was more based on sounds, and scents, elaborating any area around him, see without seeing, from a man touching a woman's arm by the light rustle of her gown or how timid a child is by the light tap of his foot. Not that his vision was hindered, for his eyesight was crisp as any healthy boy, it was the circumstances surrounding his position within the family; the bastard.

He settled down against the wooden wall, his bare feet dirtied and cold from the bare solid ground under him, flakes of show still clutched around his ankle from the march through the snow. His toes turning colors, from a peach tone to bluish purple, and he feared the winter's bite would take them. He, like many of his brothers rubbed their feet trying to bring some warmth to them.

The weaker ones, moved away from group, not trying for warmth. He knew they were giving up, allowing the winter's sleep of death to take them. He didn't mourn them, nor did he try to plead with them. Instead he brought his feet closer, almost hugging them against his swollen empty belly. He hadn't spoken a word since this begun; only listen and reminisce of his home in the palace.

In the great brick walls of his father's house he never knew what hunger was, fresh fruit, sweet lemon bread and honey mead always at his sitting table for any time he wished to snack. His breakfast, lunch, and dinner served to him at his table, and on the rarest of moments his father would dine with him. He could smell the roasted boar and fired potatoes; he could almost taste the sweet grape wine.

"_Do you remember why we went to war?" _

_Vegeta rested his head on his open palm listlessly gazing down at the yellow tinted parchment manuscript, detailing the war a decade passed. He sighed, taking glances at his teacher, an old wise withered man, his beard white as snow and shiny bald head. His old hand shakes with contained irritation from the boy's impudence. _

"_Why must I learn this? Isn't this irrelevant to what I must know?" Vegeta asks with a grump. _

_The old man smiles to him, Roshi was his name. "You must know these things, boy. The only way not to repeat history is it to learn from it." His aged hand reaches for a new scroll from the stone shelving. He unravels it with such delicateness, as if the parchment would crumple with rough handling. "You see here, boy." His fingers brush over the fine art depicting the land as a whole. "Once we were all of the same people."_

Another kick to his cold foot jolted him from memories, ever vigilant to the snarling barbarian's bark; he scampered to a standing position. He waited, eyes wide and lips sealed as the men with heavy bear-furs strapped to their broad shoulders rounded them up, ushered them out of the poorly constructed hut.

The men of the brotherhood burdened with chains and collars were silent as the grave, the shuffling of chains and barks of the wild-men the only sound to be heard. Vegeta thought to a time not long ago, when his brothers would talk amongst themselves in light content tones, the subjects of philosophy and science corresponding with religions of otherworldly places were always encouraged and nurtured within the temple halls, their voices were musical. Once smiling joyful faces of his brothers could light any space, welcome you into its warming graces.

Now his brothers have turned to muted despair, communal to solitary. Their faces dirtied and sullied by the rape of their freedom. Chains weighty and collars chaffing, each movement each step makes the leather burn and the chain sing, each miniscule movement reminded them all, they were no longer men, but objects for whatever devices their masters decides of them.

From a distance he hears a great rumble, looking to the skies the sun was blacken by a thick cloud of smoke hanging over the hills ahead, fear takes him. He could make out the sounds of feminine screams and the shouts of burley men as they come to the hill. His throat dries, and his heart began to race. Strange scents clog his nose, congested to a mix which makes them incapable to decipher its individual origins. The chain becomes heavier.

He craned his neck over the shoulder of one of his brothers, in hopes he could see over the hill. He could see the tips of huts encircled by the bow of the hill, dipping down and cradling the wooden tops. Smoke towers from each hut, some from the side, and from the roar of noise he heard carrying in the wind, he knew this was a gathering of sorts.

Arriving to the top, he paused.

A collection of men and women of numerous nationalities stirred together resembling ants, scurrying from one cluster to another. He couldn't distinguish any details; however, he was no ignorant child. He knew what this was, and finally, as if a veil had been removed from his eyes, the gravity of the situation and what had past connected to his head, he exploded in hyperventilating horror.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"_Shut that thing up!" _A tall lankly man from the back hollers. The wails of fear stricken the boy, making the captors cringe under the pitch. His feet were scrambling against the snow, trying with all his might to kick away the chains.

The greasy black haired man growled, loosening his whip, whirling it in the air to make it crack near the frighten boy screaming. _"Sirus, it won't stop screaming." _

"_Smack it around, or knock it to sleep, Larmank!"_ The Barbarian Vegeta had dubbed the Beast moved in closer to his quivering body, his rotted teeth exposed in a sadistic glee as he cracked his knuckles. The beastly barbarian raised a clenched fist readying himself for the satisfying crack of fist meeting bone… 

"_No! You fool_." A man shouts, speeding on horseback, fists tightly holding the reins of the smoke colored steed as he hauls the reins back for a full stop. He snarls down, his teeth white as snow. "_Lord Harrick doesn't want any of the young marked. Swelling and bruises makes them sell for cheap. He wants them unharmed_." From those pearly teeth he spat at the feet of the beastly barbaric man, the rider's horse rears its head, as if in agreement of her rider. "_Ignorant northerners_." He scoffs, pulling the rein left; his horse turns in a semi circle her tail flicking in irritation.

The rider's eyes borrow deep within Vegeta's, making him shudder under his intense scrutiny. "I warn you now boy, if you continue this racket no high born will buy you, for these men have no tolerance for fear. They would beat you bloody or rip out your tongue. Do you understand me?"

Vegeta didn't know what was more surprising, that the man spoke to him in a language he understood common or not, it was startling to hear words he understood. Or, it could be from hearing his probable fate. "Who are you?" He asks so quietly, not where he was, or why he was taken, no, he asked about the man whom sat upon the horse.

The rider's eyes narrow, his snarl deepens, offended it seems, either by the question, or maybe it was the manner which he had asked. He almost growled gravelly through sneering lips. "It is of no concern to you boy, and for your sake you'll never ask such questions again." He tugged the reins and kicked off, galloping from where he once came, down the bow of the terrain; leaving Vegeta shivering in the snow with his fellow brothers and the barbaric men herding them.

The beastly Larmank growled, fisting Vegeta's robes in his meaty hand pulling him nose to nose, the beast's rancid breaths hot and angry against the cold of his cheeks. He rumbles darkly to him, a warning of some sort.

Vegeta stand numb against the cage, the trip down the hill to now be all but a blur. He is clean now, wearing some itchy cheap pale tunic. He stand solemn, as his brothers outstretch their arms and hands to the people of fancy cloth evaluating them, begging to be freed. The scene makes him think of the day his father took them all to the market searching for exotic pets…

"_Look, look father! This one has two different eye colors! Green and blue!" Potat excitedly chirps. _

"_No, no, no father, look! This dog has black spots! Can we get him please?" Mixgree with just as much enthusiasm chimes. _

_A man of sizable quantity moves in like a silent snake, which was quite remarkable for a man of such weight. His bald head shone brightly under the afternoon summer sun, his mustache curls with delight, knowing he was going to make pretty coins from the King. "Your Majesty, may I inquiry to what you are searching for? I see the young princes have their eyes on the canine verity." His eyes slither down to him, as he moves in closer to his father, hiding. "And what of you, little prince, what would you like?" _

_His father's eyes lovingly gaze down to him, his hand steady on his shoulder. "Ah, Vegeta, come and look, don't hide yourself so." _

"_Father," Potat, the eldest whines. "Come look at this dog." _

_The king laughs heartily at his energetic boys. He taps Vegeta's shoulder. "Now Vegeta, go look boy, go look at the animals." _

_He stood on his own as his father moved to his half older brothers, the snake like merchant followed after his father with smiles and bows, leaving him to his own devices. He wandered the rows of caged animals, some small some large, inside were colorful birds chirping and squawking as he walked by, young dogs rushing the cages trying to get his attention with barks and wagging tails, trying to lick his hand through the steel bars. _

_The further he got the younger the dogs, he didn't pause until he reached the end, and in that very large cage were a mother and her pups. Much like before they came rushing the bars, youthful yelping and high pitch barks adding to the already noisy row. The pups almost danced jumping and twirling, trying to impress him. He reached out his hand letting them rub their cold wet noses against his palm and lick it with their warm tongues. He smiled down to them and knelt down on the dirt he reached inside the cage to pet their soft fur. _

_His nose became itchy, and a sneeze was brewing. He tilted his head to keep the urge at bay, and it was then he noticed the sad slivery looking puppy in the corner, eyes downcast and scruffy looking. He was so small compared to the other lively pups jumping at his hand, hungry even. He tried to call the sullen pup but got no reaction. "Merchant!" He called, catching the attention of his father. The merchant moved in, one step behind his father._

"_You find something boy?" His father asked, looking inside the cage. He nodded to his father making him smile widen. "Yes, that golden fur pup seems to like you a lot." _

"_No father, that one." He pointed to the sullen pup in the corner. _

_His father's brow arced. "Really, that runt?" His father hummed, looking down at the golden one again. "Son, why not this one? It will grow to be big and strong, something more appropriate. He would be a great guard dog, companion, and loyal. That one," He points to the skinny runt. "Looks like it will be too scared for protection, and will be small." _

_Vegeta shakes his head, and implores his father. "Please father, can I have him?" _

_The merchant huffed. "Surely a prince, such as yourself would like a dog that will be reliable. That one is too small for you." _

_Vegeta shook his head, making his father frown. "Why that one, Vegeta? Of all the wonderful animals here, why the runt?" He asked exasperated. _

_He looked within the cage again, finally catching the attention of the scruffy runt. "Because he is so sad… unwanted." He looks to his father. "And I feel like we can understand each other and I can make life happier for him." _

_His father smiled a sad smile and he nodded. "Very well, he is yours." He looked over to his other sons who were running around with their new pets. "Just make sure your brothers dogs don't go near him." He chuckles to himself. "They just might eat the runt."_

_Vegeta didn't regret his choice, holding the shivering scrawny grayish sliver runt in his arms, close to his heart all the way home. The runt looked up to him when they passed the castle gates, those large steel eyes gazing into his and the dogs body stopped shaking, and very slowly, unsure of itself, he lightly licked Vegeta's chin. Vegeta's smile widens and he placed a gentle kiss on the dog's head. "Welcome home, Knight." _

He wondered about Knight, had he ran from the castle when everything started to burn, did his father… his chest sunk with the thoughts of the probable fate of his home and family. His eyes stung with depressing answers. No, he knew he needed to stop, he don't have time to grieve or worry about what if's, this was the here and now, and he had to concern himself about the future.

Now he stood in the same position Knight had. He had two options, one join his brothers in begging hoping a gentle soul would buy them and set them free, or he could hide himself and not be sold at all… leaving him to the care of the barbarians…

Escape, he needed to run. How? The bars are solid, and the lock sturdy.

Vegeta took a deep breath, moving his bangs from his face, he joined his brothers. Standing in the front displaying himself for people to purchase. He watched hopelessly as people come and go, sizing them up one at a time through the iron. He saw some of his brothers' smile to older men, moistening their lips, gaining said men's attention. He was appalled by it, but understood it. His brothers had the same notion, if they weren't sold, they would stay here in the cold with evil uncaring men.

An older man had caught his attention, he was pudgy, short and had ridiculously long black hair tied in a long braid. His clothes were of silk with detailed weavings, a man of riches. It was odd how that man stood out to him considering his height, but it wasn't the fancy clothes which caught his eye, it was his mannerisms here. The man seemed out of place, while others had sized each caged man, he just walked on by, not really caring to buy. He didn't look the part of a slaver.

As the strange man came closer to his cage he noticed he wasn't alone. Another strange looking man was with him, even shorter and his hair and skin so pale, he almost could blend in with the snow. As they drew closer he then noticed they were flanked by two older boys.

They walked by, however, the pale pink eyes man holding a staff taller than he locked eyes on him. He paused, looking back once again. He whispers something to the man who first caught Vegeta's attention and as they turned back Vegeta's heart jumped, as both sets of eyes stared directly at him.

The long black haired man shouts to the key holder, pointing directly to Vegeta. _"We wish to see that boy." _

The pale man leans into his companion. _"If that is who I think it is we must buy him. But do not look so impressed, we only have a few spare coins, Yajirobe."_

"_It seems to be him. What luck we have it is, Korin_." Yajirobe answers.

The slaver pushes Vegeta closer to them his wrists and neck in shackles, and they knew without a doubt exactly who the boy was. Yajirobe feints a displease snarl, shaking his head as he measures the boy with his eyes. He makes nonsense words to Korin in gibberish as if complaining about the boy's skinniness. _"How much for the starved thing?"_

"_60 reds." _The slaver grins, pushing the boy closer.

"_60 reds!"_ Yajirobe gasps. _"For this? He is too skinny for hard work, and too fragile for pleasure. The best would be a bed pan handler, or a server. What talents does it have to be worth 60?" _

The slaver grumbles, overlooking Vegeta. He takes his chin in hand thinking. "_I go no less than 40."_

Yajirobe chuckles. _"And who would buy a little thing for 40? I'll do you a favor; I'll take the scrawny thing for 35 reds. I am willing to pay that much because I am feeling charitable. I am saving you money, you'll never sell him for the price you are asking and you have to spend your money on food for it. Trust me, you'll get no better offer_."

The slaver scoffs, spitting on the ground. _"35 reds will do."_ He toss's the chain to Yajirobe who gently passes it to the young strapping lad behind him, leaving Yajirobe with paperwork and money exchange.

Vegeta's eyes glazed as the chain tugged his neck and wrists. It wasn't a hurried tug, gentle and guiding, and he hoped he got lucky.

They had the chain's end wrapped in a iron loop screwed to the end of the wagon, the three young men sitting in its hay cushioned bottom as he was made to walk behind it. They kept the horse's pace slow as they slowly made their way from the slavers market. He kept glancing into the woods, contemplating how to get out of the chains and make a run for it, envisioning it with such clarity. However, the chains were unbreakable.

"_I wouldn't run into those woods, if I were you. Riddled with wolves they are."_ Said one of the young boys, his words was different from the Barbarians.

The other chimed in. _"I heard there are eagles the size of huts in there, Tien."_

"_Nonsense Yamcha, you listen to fairy tales too much." _

The long haired man stopped the wagon, hopping from his seat he moved in on Vegeta. _"Tien, Yamcha, he doesn't understand our language. He speaks Saiya."_

Vegeta's ears perked with the word he understood.

Tien glances to Vegeta with surprise. "_Saiya, that's so far from here."_

Yajirobe sighs, lifting his hands. He speaks to the fallen prince in his own language. "What is your name boy?"

Vegeta feels a flood of emotions hearing his peoples tongue spoken to him. Although refreshing to hear the soothing words of his own language, he didn't answer.

Yajirobe continues on. "No harm will come to you. We will keep you protected."

This man who stood before him offers his protection and Vegeta found himself all the more confused by it.

There are moments Vegeta finds himself overcome by an urge, his father's Queen called it an intolerable nuisance and when the urge was strong she had said it was an evil inside his soul clawing. However, he thought it was a small flame of bravery. He lifted his chin high; his face set like stone, and thrust his wrists out. "Then unlock the chains and set me free."

"And where would you go?" Yajirobe inquired.

"Home." Was Vegeta's simple reply, Yajirobe's face colored from Vegeta's impudence, taking a deep breath ready to let the boy have it.

Korin shouts. _"Yajirobe, gentle"_ He shakes his head as he came in close, close enough to lay a hand on Vegeta's shaking fists. He knew he should have been the one to first speak with Vegeta; Yajirobe had no patience for young ones. "My Prince." Korin bows slightly.

Vegeta gasped, looking down to the pale man. "Ho…how did you know?"

Korin smiles. "I've met your father a long time ago, when he was just a boy, and you." His hold on Vegeta's fist gently squeezes. "You look just like him. Please, come, sit on the wagon. Tien, Yamcha move over please give him some room." Korin guides Vegeta to the wagon and Vegeta couldn't help but follow the old man. "I am a bearer of bad news I'm afraid. Your homeland was attacked by those barbarians, the reason is unknown. Your father, mother, and siblings were not spared."

Vegeta's head lowered, and all he could whisper was. "She wasn't my mother… I'm a bastard."

Korin didn't know how to reply to Vegeta, he only held his hand tighter. "I heard there was a possibility one of the kings sons made it, you. They knew of three boys and only found two, and we only guessed to look around the market. And by Kami, we found you. I know this must be hard, but know this. With us you are safe." Korin nodded to Yajirobe and took the key to Vegeta's chains and showed the boy his intention. "Now, we couldn't unlock you until we've talked to you. Understand we had to act like slavers to get you, we had to make it look real for them, that why we kept you chained and made you walk behind the wagon."

Vegeta nodded his head. "You don't have to talk to me like I'm a toddler. I understand."

Korin smiled. "I don't think that, under the circumstances, I believe you suffer from a great deal of distress. Don't worry, you'll be taken care of with us."

Yajirobe gathered the unlocked chain and tossed it to the woods, shackles and collar included. Dusting off his hands like he worked a long day of labor his eyes gazed back to the bastard prince. "So, boy, what's your name?"

"Vegeta…"


End file.
